Found Sonic
by FltCmndrKelly
Summary: An average twentysomething stumbles upon a sonic screwdriver in the warehouse where she works. A wallflower by nature, Erin doesn't understand why she is drawn to the time traveler's instrument and what it means. But as the Doctor says, "in nine hundred years of time and space, he's never met anyone who wasn't important before..."
**Found Sonic**

By

FltCmndrKelly

*Note: I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters. I am new to the site so formatting may be an issue for a few weeks (sorry!) This is a novel – intended to be released gradually chapter by chapter.

 **Chapter One: Records**

The lackluster din of the florescent light fixtures in the office was just enough so that she could see the small film of dust forming between the keys on her keyboard that her can of compressed air had missed. She sighed. Not particularly the most popular employee, Erin was a slight, twentysomething with stringy hair and the noisome habit of chewing her cuticles – loudly. She stood about 5"2 in heels and her pale skin was the dry consistency of tissue paper.

Some described her as a waif, while others did not notice her at all. Her dark, thin hair that she hid behind only made her look chalkier. She toyed with the ends of it as she leaned back listlessly in her chair. She was bored, but had work to do.

Erin worked in the records department of the superior court building near the basement. The low elevation seemed to match her self-esteem. There was another shipment of boxes that she would have to greet in the receiving deck that needed her attention and nobody else was going to do it for her.

As she approached the back of the building where the receiving door was, she noticed something glinting on the floor out of the corner of her eye. As she was near-sighted, this was somewhat of a miracle. She stared at it blinkingly for a moment. The end of it flashed an iridescent green. _What the?_

The sliding door of the garage-like area was making the mechanical buzzing and tin-like commotion she had long since tuned out as it opened breaking her concentration. She quickly pushed it out of her mind. _Crap. It's him._

Hey good lookin. How are things?

Things are fine, Gary. How are you?

They'd be a lot better if you smiled.

She hated when people told her to smile. This was something she heard since she was a young girl. "Why don't you smile every once in a while?" or "It wouldn't hurt you to smile." and lastly, her personal favorite, "Smile with your teeth! You never smile…"

It wasn't that Erin was a sad girl. She was, for all intents and purposes, a content, moderately successful young person. No, she wasn't sad. She just wasn't particularly happy. She was one of those people that found incessantly happy individuals irritating and gratuitous. What the hell did they have to be so happy about anyway? Surely nothing warrants you being _that_ jolly on a Tuesday afternoon at two.

Is that all for today?

Yes, that's all for today.

She smirked in an effort to be cordial but it dropped from her face as soon as she signed for the shipment. _Seems like enough human interaction for one work day._

Almost forgetting about the green glint in the corner of her eye, she teetered off on her two inch spikes to her desk with the two boxes Gary had supplied her. Inside of those boxes would be files. At least fifty thin brown files that she would then have to alphabetize and place in their respective drawers to be kept for the next ten or so years until they were deemed irrelevant. It seemed so arbitrary to her that ten years was the magic number for the record of someone's bad behavior. Ten years and POOF, it's almost like it never happened.

She carefully drug an Exacto knife across the line of tape sealing the boxes. The plea transcripts were in neatly labeled files by case number. Occasionally, she would pull one out and read the really juicy ones. Working this job had blunted her sense and ate at her humanity. She refused to lose heart entirely, but it weighed upon her.

*twinkle twinkle*

Her eyes darted toward the doorway. _What_ _ **is**_ _that?_ Her curiosity got the better of her. She scurried over to the corner of the warehouse, heels clicking furiously as she made her way. There was a faint whirring sound. She was drawn to it inexplicably, almost like it was calling out across the room.

Then… tunnel vision. As she plucked the small pen-looking wand off the floor she felt a rush of satisfaction rush through her in waves. Her cheeks flushed and skin tingled. What was this strange object that had called out to her? Her eyes suddenly began to refocus. She ran her slender fingers up the sides of it, feeling its ridges and composition. It was a cold, silvery metal. Elliptical circles stamped the bottom of it in a mesmerizing script pattern. _Is this some kind of code?_

The end of the stick came to a rounded point with what looked like some kind of bulb protruding from it. On the side was a singular red button begging the age old question, should she push it?

 **Chapter Two: The Call**

Erin's little green Tercel hardly had time to round the corner to her apartment complex before her phone was buzzing. _Another email from work_. Why her boss had decided to give her a blackberry was beyond her, as she refused to use her personal time for work. BzzBzz BzzBzz The noise taunted her.

She grasped with one hand, desperately rooting around the bottom of her purse and steering with the other. _Phew_ , the silence button. But wait – there it was again… BzzBzz BzzBzz. Fear of the now eerily unfamiliar sound coursed through her. It wasn't her blackberry.

Erin parked in a hurry, nodding to her neighbors and climbing the three flights of stairs to her two bedroom apartment. As soon as the door clicked behind her she locked it and closed the blinds. Her heartbeat had quickened and her breath was catching in her throat. _I really need to get more sleep._

The stew that she had put on that morning had filled the small apartment with a warm, fall-like scent that comforted her slightly as she began the task of uncorking the generic table red that she purchased for the occasion. It wasn't often that Erin entertained company, but her child hood friend Jesse was in town and coming to the end of a whirlwind break up. He was going to be staying in the spare room for a week or two.

Erin poured him a more generous portion than she had herself. The look of distress on his face was painful.

Okay – lay it on me.

I'd rather not talk about it if it's alright with you.

Too soon to say 'I told you so?'

Too soon to say _anything_.

Ah.

The two sat in silence for some time. A silence that was punctuated only by the sharp pain they both felt. It was a subject they rarely breached – as they both knew that Jesse had always had feelings for Erin that were long since unrequited. There was a time in college where she thought about it, but no. He was her friend and that was all he would ever be.

He moved his spoon thoughtlessly in the stew. It smelled terrific and the air was heavy with bay leaves and stewed tomatoes. It was his favorite. He pushed the bowl away on the coffee table and sunk into himself. Erin awkwardly put her hand on his in the small forever-there gap between them on the couch. He flinched a little and she pulled it back to where it was at her side. He looked at her, then down into his bowl. His choices in girls always seemed a bit questionable, but this last girl had been trouble.

Erin looked hard at him. He wasn't bad looking. In fact, most girls would consider him downright cute. His sturdy chin and deep dimples…his chocolate hair and dark skin... he was definitely not hard to look at. Just, for some reason, hard for Erin to look at that way.

She studied the way his eyes would light up for a moment and then drop when he looked at her. She knew there would come a day when he would get sick of coming around and lose hope. That day was not today. Jesse was the only person in the world who she could think of telling what had been going on with her lately and the strange scepter-like tool she had found at work. She wondered whether or not it would cheer him up to know he was not the only one who thought they were going crazy.

 _Wanna see something weird?_ Erin asked, apropos of nothing.

 **Chapter Three: Sonic**

Jesse straightened a little.

Weird? What kind of weird?

What do you mean what kind?

Weird like, 'there is a strange smell in the bushes near my parking spot' or weird like 'I just found out I am double jointed'…? What kind of weird are we talkin here?

Weird like you might think I am schizophrenic.

That's new. He chuckled a little, not pushing the issue. Waiting for her to say it.

I am serious.

Okay, shoot.

Okay, so I am in the warehouse the other day and I notice out of the corner of my eye there is this strange sort of…flashing out of the corner of my eyes.

Flashing?

Yes, flashing. Like a blinking light.

Go on…

Well, right there, as I am going to the receiving door, I find this lying on the ground.

At this she pulls out the tool from her purse, still kind of unbelieving that it is there, in her hand, for someone else to see. For a while she thought it might have all been a dream. But there it was, in plain daylight.

Jesse blinked.

You're screwing with me, right? What is this, a pen?

I don't know. All I know is that I heard a strange noise when I approached it. Almost like a cat purring – like it was calling out to me. And when I held it I got this strange feeling…like I was supposed to be holding it. Like it was me who was supposed to find it.

He blinked some more

You think I'm crazy, don't you?

…

…

So you just found this thing on the floor in your warehouse?

Mhm

And decided to take it home with you…from your workplace…?

The thought had never occurred to her that it might have been stealing. She swallowed hard. This couldn't have belonged to someone she worked with, could it? Her face was red and stinging hot with shame. It was hers. Whatever it was, she wasn't about to leave it there.

…

I don't even remember taking it really. It's all kind of fuzzy. My phone kept ringing, it wouldn't stop. I had put it in my desk. And when I went to grab my phone, it was just sort of _there_ …

Convenient.

No, weird.

…

At this Jesse picked up the tool and examined it. It was surprisingly lightweight for the amount of metal that seemed to wrap around it. The whole thing was encasing the green glow that Erin had talked about. He ran his fingers over the rough metal and looked closely at the engraving of circles. He had never seen anything like it before and it excited him.

Turning the tool in his hand, he noticed the little red button protruding from the middle and beamed.

Whatever it is, I think I found the on switch.

Don't touch it!

Erin grabbed the tool anxiously and jumped back.

What the heck Erin?

I am just saying, it might be more powerful when we think.

Yeah, and it might be a children's toy.

His face twisted into a smirk. She hated that.

Well you'll never know until you press it, will you?

The man had a point…

 **Chapter Four: We Interrupt This Program**

Jesse searched Erin's face for a hint of a smile. He seemed to be the only person to ever conjure one, and he lived for the fleeting moments she produced one in his presence. She eyed the tool that she was holding out flat in the palm of her hand while contemplating whether or not she should just bring the thing back into work tomorrow and walk away from the whole situation.

She eyed it closely. The steely silver seemed to blend in with her pallid, gray skin. She looked almost sickly hidden behind her frock of colorless blackish hair. Her one saving grace was her big green eyes. That is what got him in the first place. One look and Jesse was hooked; because as plain as she was, her eyes were arresting. They were a bright emerald, the color of sea glass.

Alright, we'll press it.

Do you want to do it, or me?

She thought about it. As intimidating as the little scepter was, there was something about it that drew her in. The calling that she had heard she knew was intended for her.

I'll do it.

At this she walked into the middle of her tiny living room and held it out directly in front of her. Without even really thinking about it, she pointed it at the TV like a remote, and pushed. A loud whirring sound was emitted again from the tool and set the light on the end of it aglow. For a few moments nothing happened. They waited. She pushed down on the button again, hard this time. Suddenly the room was awash in the colorful glow of the TV.

On it, a man in a bowtie was speaking.

Grab the volume remote! I can't hear it!

It's like he is looking right at us…

They both fumbled for the remote and turned the volume up. On the screen they could now both clearly hear the man's voice. Both were mesmerized and frozen as he addressed them.

Hello, I'm the Doctor. And I'm afraid I am in terrible need of your help.

Erin, turn the channel, that man is freaking me out.

She pressed the button frantically, trying to switch the TV off.

Erin!

The TV clicked.

Hello, I'm the Doctor. And I'm afraid I am in terrible need of your help.

Again. Click.

Hello, I'm the – would you stop interrupting me? I am the Doctor. And I'm afraid I am in terrible need of your help…


End file.
